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Kapellekensbaan #1
De Kapellekensbaan
Librarian's Note: this is an alternate cover edition - ISBN 10: 9029504226 - ISBN 13: 9789029504225
De Kapellekensbaan vertelt over de brutale en sluwe Ondineke Bosmans die haar vlechtjes, haar borstjes en haar charme in de strijd gooit om hogerop te komen en te ontsnappen aan het grauwe bestaan in 'de stad van de twee fabrieken waar het altijd regent, zelfs als de zonne schijnt'. Maar zij verliest. In een onstuitbaar relaas verhaalt Louis Paul Boon van haar ondergang en het overal voelbare verval om haar heen.
De Kapellekensbaan is een magistrale roman over maatschappelijke ellende, over de ongrijpbare complexiteit van het bestaan en over het schrijven, en veroorzaakte bij verschijnen grote opschudding door zijn zowel naar vorm als inhoud onorthodoxe karakter. Boons zoektocht naar een stijl om de naoorlogse realiteit recht te doen, een groteske wereld zonder innerlijke samenhang of logisch verband, leidde tot een opzettelijk fragmentarische, caleidoscopische antiroman. Het is Boons terecht steeds weer herdrukte meesterproef en een van de absolute hoogtepunten uit de Nederlandstalige literatuur van de afgelopen eeuw.
De Kapellekensbaan vertelt over de brutale en sluwe Ondineke Bosmans die haar vlechtjes, haar borstjes en haar charme in de strijd gooit om hogerop te komen en te ontsnappen aan het grauwe bestaan in 'de stad van de twee fabrieken waar het altijd regent, zelfs als de zonne schijnt'. Maar zij verliest. In een onstuitbaar relaas verhaalt Louis Paul Boon van haar ondergang en het overal voelbare verval om haar heen.
De Kapellekensbaan is een magistrale roman over maatschappelijke ellende, over de ongrijpbare complexiteit van het bestaan en over het schrijven, en veroorzaakte bij verschijnen grote opschudding door zijn zowel naar vorm als inhoud onorthodoxe karakter. Boons zoektocht naar een stijl om de naoorlogse realiteit recht te doen, een groteske wereld zonder innerlijke samenhang of logisch verband, leidde tot een opzettelijk fragmentarische, caleidoscopische antiroman. Het is Boons terecht steeds weer herdrukte meesterproef en een van de absolute hoogtepunten uit de Nederlandstalige literatuur van de afgelopen eeuw.
380 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1953
70 people are currently reading
1827 people want to read
About the author
Louis Paul Boon
123 books104 followersLodewijk Paul Albrecht (Louis Paul) Boon was een Vlaams schrijver, dichter en kunstschilder.
Louis Paul Boon in de Nederlandstalige Wikipedia
Louis Paul Boon in de Digitale Bibliotheek voor de Nederlandse Letteren
Louis Paul Boon bij "Schrijversgewijs"
Lodewijk Paul Albrecht (Louis Paul) Boon was a Flemish writer, poet and painter.
Louis Paul Boon in the English Wikipedia
Biography in English on NLPVF
Louis Paul Boon in de Nederlandstalige Wikipedia
Louis Paul Boon in de Digitale Bibliotheek voor de Nederlandse Letteren
Louis Paul Boon bij "Schrijversgewijs"
Lodewijk Paul Albrecht (Louis Paul) Boon was a Flemish writer, poet and painter.
Louis Paul Boon in the English Wikipedia
Biography in English on NLPVF
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 61 reviews
February 5, 2025
Almost unknown outside of the Flemish part of Belgium, this certainly is one of the great novels in Dutch language, a real rough diamond. Published in 1953 it introduced multi-perspectivism and a reflection on the writing process in Dutch literature; so it was a kind of postmodern novel avant la lettre. But internationally, it remained under the radar because of the relative lateness of (post)modernism in this language-area, and because of the specific, locally focussed aspects of the novel.
Various issues are touched upon in this book, but the process of writing and the relation between literature and reality are pivotal: Louis-Paul Boon writes about himself struggling to write a story about a local girl, Ondineke. While writing various voices comment on the story: everyone sees something else in it (and some even write their own versions); frustrated by the critics the writer frantically tries to get some coherence in it; but it's a lost battle. Boon has drenched all this in abundant irony to make it digestible, and in that he certainly succeeds!
"Chapel Road" not only is remarkable because of its multi-faceted structure but also because of its imaginative style. As always Boon's use of the Dutch language is vulgar and flawed: bad punctuation, incorrect grammar, foul language, and general use of Flemish dialect, but this is all intended by the author to give the novel its own local flavour and character. I have my doubts this is transferable in translation; even Dutch readers from the Netherlands have a difficult time to appreciate the special style of Boon. And though it contains some real gems, the ingenious writing process at times gets a bit boring. Nevertheless, I read this 25 years ago and had a wonderful time with it. (3.5 stars)
Various issues are touched upon in this book, but the process of writing and the relation between literature and reality are pivotal: Louis-Paul Boon writes about himself struggling to write a story about a local girl, Ondineke. While writing various voices comment on the story: everyone sees something else in it (and some even write their own versions); frustrated by the critics the writer frantically tries to get some coherence in it; but it's a lost battle. Boon has drenched all this in abundant irony to make it digestible, and in that he certainly succeeds!
"Chapel Road" not only is remarkable because of its multi-faceted structure but also because of its imaginative style. As always Boon's use of the Dutch language is vulgar and flawed: bad punctuation, incorrect grammar, foul language, and general use of Flemish dialect, but this is all intended by the author to give the novel its own local flavour and character. I have my doubts this is transferable in translation; even Dutch readers from the Netherlands have a difficult time to appreciate the special style of Boon. And though it contains some real gems, the ingenious writing process at times gets a bit boring. Nevertheless, I read this 25 years ago and had a wonderful time with it. (3.5 stars)
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November 10, 2025This novel deserves a proper comprehensive review in English. So far it seems to be missing for some reason. I do not have sufficient knowledge and expertise unfortunately to fill this gap. So these are just a few jottings. I wanted to read this novel for so long. It was out of print in English. So I was very glad to grab a copy as soon as they've re-issued it this year. I believe it was written in 1953. It was a great few years for experimental fiction: the time of late modernism, but also lots of new experiments. At the same year, Beckett has finished his Trilogy and has published The Unnamable. Alain Robbe-Grillet has published his first novel moving towards the Nouveau Roman. But also Papa Hem has published The Old Man and the Sea. Two years later Lolita and The Recognitions came to this world. This novel is as well trying something new. By its nature it seems the work of post-modern fiction. I am sure that term was not yet coined at that time.
Boon experiments with the novel structure, story-telling arc, the language and even the punctuation. At the centre of it is the writer, his friends, his little corner of the world (the Chapel Road); but also the bigger world as well. Almost in real time he struggles to write his novel, listens to his friends, experiences grief, disillusionment but also the radiance of being and occasional moment of belonging to his surroundings. The narrative is nested in kind of three layers: a novel within a novel the character (called LP Boon) is writing; a series of short fables about a fox and a wolf (Reynard and Ysengrimus) written by a journalist friend of this writer; and the framing main text. The main text is quite a bit meta-fictional and auto-fictional as well for the lack of a better word. It has actually reminded me of My Struggle, Book 1, but more impressionistic and less hyper-real. Also LP Boon is less obsessed with himself and happy to focus more on his friends.
The novel within the novel is a spoof on the 19th century realism devoted to the coming of age of a fictional girl, Odine. The girl has lived at the same road as the writer but about a century earlier. She is a great character: mad and pragmatic at the same time, a rule breaker, occasionally plain evil, but fearless in her search for happiness. The stories of the Fox and the Wolf were familiar to me since my childhood. I never knew that these stories apparently stem from a germanic origin. They were perfectly natural in Eastern European environment I was growing up and were told by many grandmothers to small children. The combination of these three narratives are making quite an interesting cocktail of a drink. The novel has kept me engaged for the biggest chunk. However, closer to the end I've had an impression that the author was not sure where to take all of this; how to end the book. Ideally I wish to find out what happened to Odine when she has finally matured. But maybe there was a point to live that door opened.
My good friends who can read it Flemish tell me that this novel is hardly translatable in terms of blending a dialect and using the language to the highest gear. I can believe it. I felt I've lost something in translation. Though the translator tried her best with using jargon and occasionally even constructing her own words. But I can believe this layer is much less powerful unless you read in original.
It seems that the atmosphere of the novel is disillusionments with post-war optimism that has drawn in hypocrisy. In particular, the dealing with war crimes and even more so with less well defined collaboration has not gone far enough in the society Boon depicts. So the novel brings into focus the sense of eternal bitterness stemming out of the lack of justice and other contradictions unresolved for centuries in a microcosm of this little street, that little country and this big world.
Boon experiments with the novel structure, story-telling arc, the language and even the punctuation. At the centre of it is the writer, his friends, his little corner of the world (the Chapel Road); but also the bigger world as well. Almost in real time he struggles to write his novel, listens to his friends, experiences grief, disillusionment but also the radiance of being and occasional moment of belonging to his surroundings. The narrative is nested in kind of three layers: a novel within a novel the character (called LP Boon) is writing; a series of short fables about a fox and a wolf (Reynard and Ysengrimus) written by a journalist friend of this writer; and the framing main text. The main text is quite a bit meta-fictional and auto-fictional as well for the lack of a better word. It has actually reminded me of My Struggle, Book 1, but more impressionistic and less hyper-real. Also LP Boon is less obsessed with himself and happy to focus more on his friends.
The novel within the novel is a spoof on the 19th century realism devoted to the coming of age of a fictional girl, Odine. The girl has lived at the same road as the writer but about a century earlier. She is a great character: mad and pragmatic at the same time, a rule breaker, occasionally plain evil, but fearless in her search for happiness. The stories of the Fox and the Wolf were familiar to me since my childhood. I never knew that these stories apparently stem from a germanic origin. They were perfectly natural in Eastern European environment I was growing up and were told by many grandmothers to small children. The combination of these three narratives are making quite an interesting cocktail of a drink. The novel has kept me engaged for the biggest chunk. However, closer to the end I've had an impression that the author was not sure where to take all of this; how to end the book. Ideally I wish to find out what happened to Odine when she has finally matured. But maybe there was a point to live that door opened.
My good friends who can read it Flemish tell me that this novel is hardly translatable in terms of blending a dialect and using the language to the highest gear. I can believe it. I felt I've lost something in translation. Though the translator tried her best with using jargon and occasionally even constructing her own words. But I can believe this layer is much less powerful unless you read in original.
It seems that the atmosphere of the novel is disillusionments with post-war optimism that has drawn in hypocrisy. In particular, the dealing with war crimes and even more so with less well defined collaboration has not gone far enough in the society Boon depicts. So the novel brings into focus the sense of eternal bitterness stemming out of the lack of justice and other contradictions unresolved for centuries in a microcosm of this little street, that little country and this big world.
September 22, 2022
This book, which I've chosen from my own Dutch collection, and which is originally from 1953, is a very interesting and unusual tale by the late Flemish author, L.P. Boon.
Storytelling is excellent, pure and straightforward, and the author's characters are very believable and lifelike in a small place in Flanders, Belgium, while the story itself is direct, fast and written with verve.
It's a book that tells the everyday life and events in a small place in Flanders, where several people are highlighted, especially Ondineke Bosmans, and brought to life in an outstanding fashion by the author.
All in all, this is a memorable and likeable novel with lots of curiosities and human emotions, and this book is also published in English as "Chapel Road", in German as "Der Kapellekensweg", and in French as "La Route de la Chapelle".
Very much recommended to all readers, whether you're Dutch or otherwise, for this is a very exceptional book that has been undervalued for a long time but deserve much more recognition, and that's why I like to call this wonderful book: "A Very Remarkable Novel"!
Storytelling is excellent, pure and straightforward, and the author's characters are very believable and lifelike in a small place in Flanders, Belgium, while the story itself is direct, fast and written with verve.
It's a book that tells the everyday life and events in a small place in Flanders, where several people are highlighted, especially Ondineke Bosmans, and brought to life in an outstanding fashion by the author.
All in all, this is a memorable and likeable novel with lots of curiosities and human emotions, and this book is also published in English as "Chapel Road", in German as "Der Kapellekensweg", and in French as "La Route de la Chapelle".
Very much recommended to all readers, whether you're Dutch or otherwise, for this is a very exceptional book that has been undervalued for a long time but deserve much more recognition, and that's why I like to call this wonderful book: "A Very Remarkable Novel"!
April 9, 2008
Once again the world has proven to me that their is still much to be found in it. I'd never heard of Louis Paul Boon before noticing Summer of Termuren when it arrived at the store a few weeks ago. SOT looked like the kind of book I normally get excited about. First half of the 20th century gloom and doom, idealism being destroyed by the waves of history, that kind of thing. I was about to buy the book, when I saw that it was the follow up to this novel, so I had to pick it up first. It's just wrong to read books out of order.
This book is set sometime in the 19th century, it's also set sometime following the second World War. The book alternates between the writing of the story of Termuren in the 19th century at the dawn of Socialism, and in the 'present day' (the book being written in the 1950's) as an author named Boon tries to write the novel about Chapel Road. Since this isn't confusing enough already for me to write, I'll add that also in N1 (N1 being used to designate the story of a writer Boon and his friends, as opposed to N2 which is the story the writer Boon is writing within the novel N), there is a running fable of sorts that's a take off of the poem Reynard the Fox.
In N1, the characters are living in a Socialist state. In N2 the characters are living in pre-socialism, and the ideas of Socialism are equal to godlessness in the eyes of most of the people. In both of these settings there is a poverty of real life present, and the book is in a sense a setting up of why did Socialism fail, or maybe why is it still basically the same society but under a different name.
I'm failing miserably. I can't describe this book easily. It's wonderfully post-modern, and possibly the first post-modern novel with it's self-reflexive storytelling. Reading this novel isn't for everyone, I can imagine people finding it boring, and it's not really until you start to think about the different stories and characters in particular relations that aren't spelled explicitly by the author that new and wonderful dimensions open up.
Maybe once I read SOT I'll be able to write a better description of this novel. The only thing I guess I can really say is that this novel is definitely worth reading, and once again I have Dalkey to thank for putting back into print an amazing piece of literature that probably would have never crossed my path if it hadn't been for them.
This book is set sometime in the 19th century, it's also set sometime following the second World War. The book alternates between the writing of the story of Termuren in the 19th century at the dawn of Socialism, and in the 'present day' (the book being written in the 1950's) as an author named Boon tries to write the novel about Chapel Road. Since this isn't confusing enough already for me to write, I'll add that also in N1 (N1 being used to designate the story of a writer Boon and his friends, as opposed to N2 which is the story the writer Boon is writing within the novel N), there is a running fable of sorts that's a take off of the poem Reynard the Fox.
In N1, the characters are living in a Socialist state. In N2 the characters are living in pre-socialism, and the ideas of Socialism are equal to godlessness in the eyes of most of the people. In both of these settings there is a poverty of real life present, and the book is in a sense a setting up of why did Socialism fail, or maybe why is it still basically the same society but under a different name.
I'm failing miserably. I can't describe this book easily. It's wonderfully post-modern, and possibly the first post-modern novel with it's self-reflexive storytelling. Reading this novel isn't for everyone, I can imagine people finding it boring, and it's not really until you start to think about the different stories and characters in particular relations that aren't spelled explicitly by the author that new and wonderful dimensions open up.
Maybe once I read SOT I'll be able to write a better description of this novel. The only thing I guess I can really say is that this novel is definitely worth reading, and once again I have Dalkey to thank for putting back into print an amazing piece of literature that probably would have never crossed my path if it hadn't been for them.
April 9, 2012
Boon (her)lezen blijft een deugddoend tijdverdrijf. Al die mensen met hun vergeefse hoop en aspiraties, dat geploeter om overeind te blijven materieel, moreel en ideologisch, tegelijk hartverwarmend en hartverscheurend. Daarnaast die modernistische structuur die slechts ogenschijnlijk chaotisch is. En die figuren: Johan Janssens, dagbladschrijver en gevelschilder, de kantieke schoolmeester, Tippetotje, de schilderes, ... Verplichte lectuur voor socialisten.
December 27, 2023
274 “Ge zoudt in dit boek bladzijden en bladzijden moeten terugslaan, om op te speuren waar de schrijver zelf, boontje, voor de laatste keer aan het woord was… en daar hij zelf een held uit zijn eigen boek is, mogen we hem godomme toch ook niet vergeten: welnu, hier komt dan boontje aan het woord, om ons te vertellen hoe hij een Andere schrijver heeft ontmOEt: […]
275 “Daar zet ge u neer om over ondine te schrijven, hoe ze hoofdschuddend een nieuwe stomme streek der heren aankeek… doch pas zet ge uw pen op twit papier of tippetotje stapt binnen, en het 1ste wat ge aan haar bemerkt is over haar linkerwang een veeg verf: zie niet naar die veeg verf op mijn rechterschoen, zegt zij, want ik kom uit brussel, waar ik gewerkt heb bij het rijk volk, ik heb hun muren en plafonds beschilderd met engelenkoppen, en hun deuren met gouden biesjes… en ik haast mij naar u toe, om u mede te delen dat ge uw voorstelling omtrent de heren wijzigen moet, als ge over hen nog eens schrijft: […]
2 citaten uit deze 452 pagina’s tellende roman uit 1953 geven een beetje weer wat je kunt verwachten qua vorm. Het spelen met spelling en woorden went overigens snel. Het kernverhaal over de anti-heldin Ondineke is cursief gedrukt. Het is een labyrintisch geheel van (hoofd)stukjes. Terwijl het verhaal van Ondineke zich afspeelt in het jaar 1800-en-zoveel spelen de alternerende hoofdstukjes zich in het heden af. Daar komen allerlei figuren voorbij zoals Tippetotje (schilderes), de kantieke schoolmeester en zijn vrouw, meneer Colson (van tministerie) en Johan Janssens (dichter en dagbladschrijver). Die laatste vertelt het verhaal over Reinaert de vos en Isengrinus de wolf, verspreid over het hele boek.
Het verhaal over Ondineke die probeert zich te ontworstelen aan de armoede is best aardig en maakt dat je doorleest. Je zou ook alleen de cursieve gedeeltes kunnen lezen! Het verhaal over Reinaert is minder goed. Dan blijven over al die stukjes waar de hierboven genoemde figuren commentaar leveren op het verhaal van Ondineke. Dat is uitermate geestig. Maar zij bespreken ook tal van andere zaken. En die zaken beklijven niet echt. En zoals in het eerste citaat becommentarieerd de schrijver zelfs de schrijver!
Louis Paul Boon heeft een vervolg geschreven op dit boek, Zomer te Ter-Muren, over hoe het verder gaat met Ondineke. Ook een pil. En op basis van dit boek twijfel ik ernstig of ik dat ga lezen. Voorlopig in ieder geval niet. Verscheurd jeugdportret staat hier nog in de kast, misschien dat ik dat nog eens ga herlezen.
275 “Daar zet ge u neer om over ondine te schrijven, hoe ze hoofdschuddend een nieuwe stomme streek der heren aankeek… doch pas zet ge uw pen op twit papier of tippetotje stapt binnen, en het 1ste wat ge aan haar bemerkt is over haar linkerwang een veeg verf: zie niet naar die veeg verf op mijn rechterschoen, zegt zij, want ik kom uit brussel, waar ik gewerkt heb bij het rijk volk, ik heb hun muren en plafonds beschilderd met engelenkoppen, en hun deuren met gouden biesjes… en ik haast mij naar u toe, om u mede te delen dat ge uw voorstelling omtrent de heren wijzigen moet, als ge over hen nog eens schrijft: […]
2 citaten uit deze 452 pagina’s tellende roman uit 1953 geven een beetje weer wat je kunt verwachten qua vorm. Het spelen met spelling en woorden went overigens snel. Het kernverhaal over de anti-heldin Ondineke is cursief gedrukt. Het is een labyrintisch geheel van (hoofd)stukjes. Terwijl het verhaal van Ondineke zich afspeelt in het jaar 1800-en-zoveel spelen de alternerende hoofdstukjes zich in het heden af. Daar komen allerlei figuren voorbij zoals Tippetotje (schilderes), de kantieke schoolmeester en zijn vrouw, meneer Colson (van tministerie) en Johan Janssens (dichter en dagbladschrijver). Die laatste vertelt het verhaal over Reinaert de vos en Isengrinus de wolf, verspreid over het hele boek.
Het verhaal over Ondineke die probeert zich te ontworstelen aan de armoede is best aardig en maakt dat je doorleest. Je zou ook alleen de cursieve gedeeltes kunnen lezen! Het verhaal over Reinaert is minder goed. Dan blijven over al die stukjes waar de hierboven genoemde figuren commentaar leveren op het verhaal van Ondineke. Dat is uitermate geestig. Maar zij bespreken ook tal van andere zaken. En die zaken beklijven niet echt. En zoals in het eerste citaat becommentarieerd de schrijver zelfs de schrijver!
Louis Paul Boon heeft een vervolg geschreven op dit boek, Zomer te Ter-Muren, over hoe het verder gaat met Ondineke. Ook een pil. En op basis van dit boek twijfel ik ernstig of ik dat ga lezen. Voorlopig in ieder geval niet. Verscheurd jeugdportret staat hier nog in de kast, misschien dat ik dat nog eens ga herlezen.
June 15, 2013
.
The Darkness Of Our Own Frightened Hearts, Reading Chapel Road in Brussels: http://radicalcut.blogspot.de/2013/06...
Plus, Louis Paul Boon writes:
From your open attic window you can see no-man’s wood being painted red by the sinking sun, and you hear msieu colson of the ministry’s melancholy sheep bleating one last time before it disappears behind the stable door: and then you push your papers aside and go downstairs, just when the music master opens the door and together with his pretty wife lucette lets a little of that late red sunshine enter. He shakes his head in his music master’s way, and you hear him say:
I suppose you’ve been poring over your papers up there in your attic, writing about the world-of-today; well, I’ve misunderstood so many books already and I know that all there is to say has already been said; I’m not even talking now of ecclesiastes, of the faust-writers or the mad actor of hamlet… no, please don’t interrupt me, let me go on; do you really think that up in that attic of yours you’re going to gather greater wisdom than lao tse, or can you be more surrealist-erotic-simple-minded than the songs of maldoror? Will you sound human depths and heights more deeply and more highly than the demons in the brothers Karamazov, will you chase time outside time and space more ferociously than proust, or will you whip life within time and space more grimly that in the voyage au bout de la nuit? Will you be any better in depicting modern derailed man-in-a-crooked-society in his true condition as living and thinking animal than lady chatterley’s love? Can you play with words more soberly than Lenin, more naturalistically than zola, more symbolically than the bible? Can you possibly be more solemn and more infallible than the pope in rome, more fabulously immoral than the Arabian nights, more heavenly than the imitation of christ, more subtle and more cunning that the reynard of william-who-created-madoc; more tragic-rustic than nivardus’ isengrinus? And can you be more modernly, mangily unbelieving than tropic of Capricorn? or more romantically miserable than the sprawl of suburbia?
And when you hear the music master fall silent and see him press his lips together, you reply: maybe it is impossible to say anything new and better, but the dust of time falls on everything that has been written and so I think it’s right if every ten years someone else draws a line through all those old things and describes the world-of-today in different words.
The Darkness Of Our Own Frightened Hearts, Reading Chapel Road in Brussels: http://radicalcut.blogspot.de/2013/06...
Plus, Louis Paul Boon writes:
From your open attic window you can see no-man’s wood being painted red by the sinking sun, and you hear msieu colson of the ministry’s melancholy sheep bleating one last time before it disappears behind the stable door: and then you push your papers aside and go downstairs, just when the music master opens the door and together with his pretty wife lucette lets a little of that late red sunshine enter. He shakes his head in his music master’s way, and you hear him say:
I suppose you’ve been poring over your papers up there in your attic, writing about the world-of-today; well, I’ve misunderstood so many books already and I know that all there is to say has already been said; I’m not even talking now of ecclesiastes, of the faust-writers or the mad actor of hamlet… no, please don’t interrupt me, let me go on; do you really think that up in that attic of yours you’re going to gather greater wisdom than lao tse, or can you be more surrealist-erotic-simple-minded than the songs of maldoror? Will you sound human depths and heights more deeply and more highly than the demons in the brothers Karamazov, will you chase time outside time and space more ferociously than proust, or will you whip life within time and space more grimly that in the voyage au bout de la nuit? Will you be any better in depicting modern derailed man-in-a-crooked-society in his true condition as living and thinking animal than lady chatterley’s love? Can you play with words more soberly than Lenin, more naturalistically than zola, more symbolically than the bible? Can you possibly be more solemn and more infallible than the pope in rome, more fabulously immoral than the Arabian nights, more heavenly than the imitation of christ, more subtle and more cunning that the reynard of william-who-created-madoc; more tragic-rustic than nivardus’ isengrinus? And can you be more modernly, mangily unbelieving than tropic of Capricorn? or more romantically miserable than the sprawl of suburbia?
And when you hear the music master fall silent and see him press his lips together, you reply: maybe it is impossible to say anything new and better, but the dust of time falls on everything that has been written and so I think it’s right if every ten years someone else draws a line through all those old things and describes the world-of-today in different words.
April 22, 2019
In 'de stad van 2 fabrieken' waar het altijd regent groeit de kleine Ondine op die zichzelf een groots leven beschoren ziet. Ze wil koste wat kost haar verarmde, burgerlijke gezin ontvluchten en op zwier gaan met de libertijnse en encyclieke rijkeluizen. Wat volgt, is een coming-of-ageverhaal in een gehucht waar geruchten waarheid zijn en geloof bijgeloof. Ondinekes levenswandel wordt afgewisseld met hoekjes die de dagbladschrijver johan janssens - het alter ego van Boon zelf- schrijft over de Reinaertstof. Als derde laag zien we de schrijver Boon het materiaal voor zijn werk over de Kapellekensbaan verzamelen.
We bevinden ons in een zeitgeist waar jenever nog aangelengd werd met spiritus en waar het socialisme overal als een bonte serviet op tafel ligt. Of zoals het in de roman zelf heet: "links, zeer links en ultramarxistisch." In het algemeen kent de Kapellekensbaan een vrij klassieke expositie. Experiment is meer te vinden in de intermedialiteit die dit werk ondertekent: schema's, pijlen, driehoeken ... Ook de spelling is lichtjes anarchistisch te noemen. Toch al met al geen moeilijkheden om dit meesterwerk te doorworstelen. Voornamelijk de passages over Boons redactionele leven zijn anno 2016 nog zeer genietbaar.
We bevinden ons in een zeitgeist waar jenever nog aangelengd werd met spiritus en waar het socialisme overal als een bonte serviet op tafel ligt. Of zoals het in de roman zelf heet: "links, zeer links en ultramarxistisch." In het algemeen kent de Kapellekensbaan een vrij klassieke expositie. Experiment is meer te vinden in de intermedialiteit die dit werk ondertekent: schema's, pijlen, driehoeken ... Ook de spelling is lichtjes anarchistisch te noemen. Toch al met al geen moeilijkheden om dit meesterwerk te doorworstelen. Voornamelijk de passages over Boons redactionele leven zijn anno 2016 nog zeer genietbaar.
April 22, 2023
Dit is ongetwijfeld een van de meest interessante, meeslepende en (ondanks het zelfbenoemde nihilisme) motiverende en engagerende Nederlandstalige boeken die ik ooit gelezen heb. De schrijfstijl (zowel de bladschikking, alternatieve orthografie en vertelwijze) is uniek en maakt het boek een genot om te lezen (zelfs in het gebrek van hoofdletters weerklinkt een verzuchting over de maatschappij!), en de personages voelen enorm realistisch aan. Weinig romans kunnen een gevatte kritiek op het huidige politieke systeem leveren (nota bene een systeem dat sinds 1953 nauwelijks veranderd is, hetgeen het boek actueel houdt) en tegelijkertijd een Bildungsroman bij uitstek zijn. Toch zie ik mezelf niet snel het vervolg, Zomer te Ter-Muren lezen.
August 17, 2024
Boontje, legend.
Ik probeer later nog een recensie te schrijven!
Ik probeer later nog een recensie te schrijven!
August 14, 2022
«... en hij loopt nu in een witte overall over de kapellekensbaan, met ladders en potten en kwasten, en hij schildert gevels... hij die vroeger het geestesleven schreef, schildert nu het gevelsleven. En gij?
Gij boontje?
En uw vrouw komt binnen en betrapt u, liggend met uw hoofd in uw arm op uw schrijftafel... en ze vraagt: slaapt gij?... en ge antwoordt: neen godverdomme ik slaap niet, ik ween.»
Gij boontje?
En uw vrouw komt binnen en betrapt u, liggend met uw hoofd in uw arm op uw schrijftafel... en ze vraagt: slaapt gij?... en ge antwoordt: neen godverdomme ik slaap niet, ik ween.»
November 7, 2021
“Neen, zei ze, dat ik mij ellendig voel is veel meer omdat het geen zomer wil worden, en ik niet tegen die regen iedere dag kan... ik denk dan teveel aan pijn en dood... ik denk dan dat ik ook niet lang zal leven, want ik voel mij zo triestig en zo moe... en ook, sterven is niets, maar sterven gelijk ik, die geleefd heeft zonder te weten waarom ik leefde: ik zou moeten een lief hebben [...].”
Dit boek uitlezen is moeilijk, het niet uitlezen nog moeilijker.
Dit boek uitlezen is moeilijk, het niet uitlezen nog moeilijker.
October 15, 2023
Doorgeploeterd tot bladzijde 32 en het dan maar opgegeven. Ergens zit er misschien een mooi of interessant verhaal in begraven, maar de schrijfstijl is een berg ter hoogte van de Mount Everest, en ik heb enkel maar een plastieken strandschepje bij.
August 24, 2025
De man die het Geuzenboek schreef, laat mij mijn Aalsterse afkomst steeds minder als geuzennaam gebruiken! Man had elke dag van de week de Nobelprijs moeten winnen!
November 2, 2018
this book has everything folks! if you like the celine style of european literature, where characters poop and pee and say the rude words, and peasants are covered in mud all day, then its got lots of that. but, if you like metafictional books where the author and his friends talk about the book he's writing in the book, and about how novels should be written, and how modernity is a nightmare, then it's got that too! wow! also you get some stuff about the failure of reformist belgian socialism and some funny picaresque retellings of reynard the fox stories, pretty impressive for a book that's not quite 350 pages long. some quotes:
"Oh, be quiet, music master you say... you make me think of those solemn, knowall, never erring modern critics: it's all very well for them to say that an author writing about life must weight this and think of that, and must add a pinch of pepper and salt, nutmeg and cinnamon... no, sorry, I'm wrong, that's an omelet recipe... and these critics can more or less be compared to the tragic case of a baby being thrown away by mistake and the afterbirth being put in the cradle. But the most tragic of all is that they have come to see this error as the normal situation and want to pass their inadequate grocer's mentality on the conceiving, pregnant and birthgiving writer."
"No sooner had the socialist band gone past, then people hesitantly peered out of their doors... vapeur swore by heaven and hell that he'd seen them, that he'd talked to them, but no one would believe him. They wondered whether that band had gone past the chapel without making the sign of the cross... zulma came outside and shouted that they hadn't gone past, but that they'd flown overhead with a terrible scream... The people crossed themselves and wondered what was in store for them: a young mother with a child on her arm burst out sobbing without knowing what she was doing; a peasant joined them; he'd come all the way from his fields and looked back at his fallow land as if he was wondering whether it was worth tilling the soil anymore, now that the world was going to perish anyway. Vapeur looked at them and daren't utter his unbelief: so it was the same as usual again, that he and only he had seen them and had talked to them... he had to conclude that they were people like any others and that therefore all the things these stupid blockheads imagined were fantasy."
"Let me tell you about an old office clerk who's been working in the ministry for over 30 years, but always as a temporary clerk... for 30 years he's been temporary and for 30 years he's been waiting for his permanent appointment... and then comes the medical examination showing that he's got something the matter with him, maybe also a heart that isn't altogether normal... and he's therefore unmasked as if he were a bandit or a swindler: for 30 years he's been working in the ministry and now he has the temerity to have something the matter with him; to have a disease. So he's not appointed, that'll teach him. But... he's allowed to stay on as a temporary clerk. He's allowed to stay till he gets the retirement pension of a 'mere temporary clerk' who was unmasked as a sick man by medical examination. And so they'll be able to punish him by not paying him the higher pension of permanent clerks, and he will have no right to certain advantages to which others have a right: haha! we've caught a little sucker, a little sick sucker in a trap!"
"Oh, be quiet, music master you say... you make me think of those solemn, knowall, never erring modern critics: it's all very well for them to say that an author writing about life must weight this and think of that, and must add a pinch of pepper and salt, nutmeg and cinnamon... no, sorry, I'm wrong, that's an omelet recipe... and these critics can more or less be compared to the tragic case of a baby being thrown away by mistake and the afterbirth being put in the cradle. But the most tragic of all is that they have come to see this error as the normal situation and want to pass their inadequate grocer's mentality on the conceiving, pregnant and birthgiving writer."
"No sooner had the socialist band gone past, then people hesitantly peered out of their doors... vapeur swore by heaven and hell that he'd seen them, that he'd talked to them, but no one would believe him. They wondered whether that band had gone past the chapel without making the sign of the cross... zulma came outside and shouted that they hadn't gone past, but that they'd flown overhead with a terrible scream... The people crossed themselves and wondered what was in store for them: a young mother with a child on her arm burst out sobbing without knowing what she was doing; a peasant joined them; he'd come all the way from his fields and looked back at his fallow land as if he was wondering whether it was worth tilling the soil anymore, now that the world was going to perish anyway. Vapeur looked at them and daren't utter his unbelief: so it was the same as usual again, that he and only he had seen them and had talked to them... he had to conclude that they were people like any others and that therefore all the things these stupid blockheads imagined were fantasy."
"Let me tell you about an old office clerk who's been working in the ministry for over 30 years, but always as a temporary clerk... for 30 years he's been temporary and for 30 years he's been waiting for his permanent appointment... and then comes the medical examination showing that he's got something the matter with him, maybe also a heart that isn't altogether normal... and he's therefore unmasked as if he were a bandit or a swindler: for 30 years he's been working in the ministry and now he has the temerity to have something the matter with him; to have a disease. So he's not appointed, that'll teach him. But... he's allowed to stay on as a temporary clerk. He's allowed to stay till he gets the retirement pension of a 'mere temporary clerk' who was unmasked as a sick man by medical examination. And so they'll be able to punish him by not paying him the higher pension of permanent clerks, and he will have no right to certain advantages to which others have a right: haha! we've caught a little sucker, a little sick sucker in a trap!"
July 24, 2022
Het feit dat ik aan elk checkpoint in deze app een quote kon toevoegen zegt al best veel, vind ik. Boontje's liefde voor zijn Helden en Heldinnen en zijn afkeer voor de steeds sneller moderner wordende maatschappij zorgen ervoor dat hij, ondanks zijn soms frustrerend ouderwetse stijlkeuzes, zo herkenbaar en menselijk blijft. Tippetotje de Schilderes, Johan Janssens de Dichter en Dagbladschrijver en Gevelschilder en Weekbladschrijver, en Mossieu Colson vant Minnesterie zullen nog lang rent-free blijven samenkomen in mijn hoofd om de Moderne Roman (van 70 jaar geleden) te bespreken en de wereld in zijn geheel te verbeteren. Want eigenlijk is verhaal over de Kallekensbaan maar een voorwendsel voor Boon om zijn gedacht over vanalles en nog wat te zeggen, en dat gedacht steeds in een stuk of vier heerlijke zinnen te gieten.
January 12, 2019
Ik had geen idee waar ik aan begon. Maar dit boek is anders dan alle andere boeken. Ik moest er even aan wennen, maar toen werd ik ook wel meegezogen in het leven aan de Kapellekensbaan. De woorden 'bijzonder' en 'origineel' doen dit boek te kort, maar het was in ieder geval een hele fijne ervaring om dit boek te kunnen lezen.
Read
October 27, 2025Een bijzonder eigenzinnig boek. Vaak lastig te volgen, maar bij momenten echt geniaal.
May 15, 2025
Ha der lang oer dien om dit boek, dizze klassiker, te lêzen.
Drok, Flaams, 1953, ferkillende ferhaallinen en tiden trochmekoar. Somtiden koe ik my de kop der net by hâlde, en dan ynienen: in a-ha momint, dat ik in finkje yn de side tearde, of daliks in gedicht sketse moatst.
Tsien siden per sit, mear wie gauris tefolle, dan rekke ik oerprikkele. In soad fan leard, as minske en skriuwerke.
Drok, Flaams, 1953, ferkillende ferhaallinen en tiden trochmekoar. Somtiden koe ik my de kop der net by hâlde, en dan ynienen: in a-ha momint, dat ik in finkje yn de side tearde, of daliks in gedicht sketse moatst.
Tsien siden per sit, mear wie gauris tefolle, dan rekke ik oerprikkele. In soad fan leard, as minske en skriuwerke.
April 11, 2024
Dit noemt men doorzettingsvermogen hebben.
Ik heb het met spoilers en samenvattingen ernaast uiteindelijk wel uitgelezen. Ingewikkeld en niet mijn ding...
Ik heb het met spoilers en samenvattingen ernaast uiteindelijk wel uitgelezen. Ingewikkeld en niet mijn ding...
March 19, 2024
Normaal schrijf ik geen reviews. Voor boontje en ondinneke maak ik graag een uitzondering. Want wat ik graag zou willen zeggen: geloof ze niet! Zij die beweren dat het verhaal van De Kapellekensbaan innemend en meeslepend is. Wat bezielt hen? Dit boek is een complete soep, een chaos die je overrompelt. Toch greep ik er altijd naar terug.
Waar gaat het dan over? In het kort is dit een boek dat handelt over het leven en hoe onbegrijpelijk en onvatbaar dat bestaan is. Dat boontje de wereld nogal defaitistisch, nihilistisch, viezentistisch wikt en weegt hoeft weinig pleidooi. De radeloosheid sluimert tussen alle onzichtbare witregels van dit boek. boontje creëerde een boek over de onmogelijkheid om een boek te schrijven over het leven. Het is niet bedoeld om knus van te genieten met een mok kamillethee wanneer het buiten wedert zoals het immer op De Kapellekensbaan doet.
Wat boontje neerpent is simpelweg te veel om op te nemen. Natuurlijk kan je trachten om alle losse rafels met elkander te verbinden. Dan krijg je een lappendeken van plots, motieven, metaforen die spastisch door je brein kronkelen maar geen plaats krijgen. Mythische personages als johan janssens, de kantieke schoolmeester, Valeer, Isengrinus … Ze bewandelen allen dezelfde doolhof zonder eind: de literaire gedachtewereld van boontje. Het pad van de eeuwige Odyssee.
Vijf sterren geven aan een boek dat ik eigenlijk niet begrepen heb? Ik kan het niet. Zelfs in de wetenschap dat dit boek niet gemaakt is om te begrijpen. Het is geschreven om je te doen afzien en te sakkeren en zuchten en je zelf af te vragen waarom je er eigenlijk mee doorgaat. Dat is het gevoel dat boontje opwekt. Het gevoel dat hij misschien zelf zijn ganse leven gehad heeft.
Bij elk boek dat ik de komende maanden zal lezen zal ik ongetwijfeld een vergelijking maken met de roman waar ik de afgelopen weken door geploeterd heb. Dan zal ik denken aan de achteloosheid in de accurate stijl, de knarsende zinsconstructies, de onbenullige, onnozele wijsheden of simpelweg: ‘wat zou boontje hier over te zeggen hebben?’. Ik zal denken hoe flauwtjes het boek dat ik dan ter handen zal hebben zich hier op afspiegelt.
De Kapellekensbaan is een meesterwerk binnen de Vlaamse literatuur die enige inspanning vergt. Althans dat was toch voor mij het geval. Wat het biedt is een unieke leeservaring. Toch is dit boek geen leestip. Misschien ligt het wel gewoon aan mij. Ben ik zelf onvermoed een ziel op de baan des kappellens. Pak het vast en maak zelf uw oordeel.
Waar gaat het dan over? In het kort is dit een boek dat handelt over het leven en hoe onbegrijpelijk en onvatbaar dat bestaan is. Dat boontje de wereld nogal defaitistisch, nihilistisch, viezentistisch wikt en weegt hoeft weinig pleidooi. De radeloosheid sluimert tussen alle onzichtbare witregels van dit boek. boontje creëerde een boek over de onmogelijkheid om een boek te schrijven over het leven. Het is niet bedoeld om knus van te genieten met een mok kamillethee wanneer het buiten wedert zoals het immer op De Kapellekensbaan doet.
Wat boontje neerpent is simpelweg te veel om op te nemen. Natuurlijk kan je trachten om alle losse rafels met elkander te verbinden. Dan krijg je een lappendeken van plots, motieven, metaforen die spastisch door je brein kronkelen maar geen plaats krijgen. Mythische personages als johan janssens, de kantieke schoolmeester, Valeer, Isengrinus … Ze bewandelen allen dezelfde doolhof zonder eind: de literaire gedachtewereld van boontje. Het pad van de eeuwige Odyssee.
Vijf sterren geven aan een boek dat ik eigenlijk niet begrepen heb? Ik kan het niet. Zelfs in de wetenschap dat dit boek niet gemaakt is om te begrijpen. Het is geschreven om je te doen afzien en te sakkeren en zuchten en je zelf af te vragen waarom je er eigenlijk mee doorgaat. Dat is het gevoel dat boontje opwekt. Het gevoel dat hij misschien zelf zijn ganse leven gehad heeft.
Bij elk boek dat ik de komende maanden zal lezen zal ik ongetwijfeld een vergelijking maken met de roman waar ik de afgelopen weken door geploeterd heb. Dan zal ik denken aan de achteloosheid in de accurate stijl, de knarsende zinsconstructies, de onbenullige, onnozele wijsheden of simpelweg: ‘wat zou boontje hier over te zeggen hebben?’. Ik zal denken hoe flauwtjes het boek dat ik dan ter handen zal hebben zich hier op afspiegelt.
De Kapellekensbaan is een meesterwerk binnen de Vlaamse literatuur die enige inspanning vergt. Althans dat was toch voor mij het geval. Wat het biedt is een unieke leeservaring. Toch is dit boek geen leestip. Misschien ligt het wel gewoon aan mij. Ben ik zelf onvermoed een ziel op de baan des kappellens. Pak het vast en maak zelf uw oordeel.
May 15, 2021
Around the world in 80 books #41: Belgium 🇧🇪
When I was 17 years old or so I promised my Dutch language teacher that I would read De Kapellekensbaan after my graduation: the book was toothick to read it for my Dutch literature exam. Now, 33 years later, I finally fulfilled the promise and am glad that I waited so long: as a teenager I wouldn't have been ready for this.
This is a complex book, where at least three separate story lines are intertwined:
1. The story about Ondineke, set in the late 19th century, depicting the rise of socialism;
2. Comments on that book by the author and various fictional characters, set in the late 1940s, depicting the fall of socialism;
3. A retelling of the medieval stories around the fox Reinaert, transposed into the late 1940s.
The first and third lines are mostly entertaining, the second line gets quite boring after a while. Overall, the book is too long to support the way in which it is written. There is even a sequel, but I doubt if I still want to read that. Maybe in 33 years?
When I was 17 years old or so I promised my Dutch language teacher that I would read De Kapellekensbaan after my graduation: the book was toothick to read it for my Dutch literature exam. Now, 33 years later, I finally fulfilled the promise and am glad that I waited so long: as a teenager I wouldn't have been ready for this.
This is a complex book, where at least three separate story lines are intertwined:
1. The story about Ondineke, set in the late 19th century, depicting the rise of socialism;
2. Comments on that book by the author and various fictional characters, set in the late 1940s, depicting the fall of socialism;
3. A retelling of the medieval stories around the fox Reinaert, transposed into the late 1940s.
The first and third lines are mostly entertaining, the second line gets quite boring after a while. Overall, the book is too long to support the way in which it is written. There is even a sequel, but I doubt if I still want to read that. Maybe in 33 years?
December 27, 2015
DUTCH REVIEW (English review below)
Op het eerste zicht lijkt dit een zeer chaotisch boek te zijn. Het beschikt over verschillende verhaallijnen die door elkaar worden gesmeten. Verder in het boek went deze aparte stijl en begint het lezen te vlotten. Het is een interessant boek dat mij op vele plaatsen heeft aangezet tot nadenken over de maatschappij en het bestaan. Dit is een boek dat men zeker ooit eens gelezen moet hebben.
ENGLISH REVIEW
At first sight this seems to be a very chaotic book. It contains multiple storylines alternate each other regularly. Further in the book, you get used to this strange style and the book becomes easier to read. It is an interesting book that made me think about society and our existence. This is a book that you must have read at least once.
Op het eerste zicht lijkt dit een zeer chaotisch boek te zijn. Het beschikt over verschillende verhaallijnen die door elkaar worden gesmeten. Verder in het boek went deze aparte stijl en begint het lezen te vlotten. Het is een interessant boek dat mij op vele plaatsen heeft aangezet tot nadenken over de maatschappij en het bestaan. Dit is een boek dat men zeker ooit eens gelezen moet hebben.
ENGLISH REVIEW
At first sight this seems to be a very chaotic book. It contains multiple storylines alternate each other regularly. Further in the book, you get used to this strange style and the book becomes easier to read. It is an interesting book that made me think about society and our existence. This is a book that you must have read at least once.
March 15, 2018
Zo, wat een boek. Het is niet het meest leesbare boek en 'leuk' kan ik het ook zeker niet noemen maar goed is het wel.
In deze roman in een roman volgen we anti-heldin Ondineke, die het niet lukt haar dromen waar te maken, en we volgen de auteur zelf. Je verliest je vertrouwen in de mens, in hun rationele vermogens, en in de samenleving. Het is maatschappijkritiek waar je cynisch en toch ook best verdrietig van wordt. En dat maakt het wel een goed boek.
In deze roman in een roman volgen we anti-heldin Ondineke, die het niet lukt haar dromen waar te maken, en we volgen de auteur zelf. Je verliest je vertrouwen in de mens, in hun rationele vermogens, en in de samenleving. Het is maatschappijkritiek waar je cynisch en toch ook best verdrietig van wordt. En dat maakt het wel een goed boek.
July 10, 2019
(assuming you know the plot[s])
Though the rambling style sometimes had me tuning out, it was never for long enough to really get me annoyed, and often another gorgeously simple insight would follow the lull and make me forget I'd been momentarily bored.
The novel takes you on the the intimate journey of writing the book you care about and fail to be satisfied about, either during or after. Simultaneously, you're in a personal storm of ideological shifts and insecurity, something that for me was personally relevant and, dare I say, cathartic.
As a Fleming, I was also inspired by the bold decision to have the grossest, dullest, truest, and most historically relevant bits of life take place in what is basically the author's own street.
Of course, it's impossible to talk about this book without mentioning Boon's use of language, which can seem quite banal. He often avoids precise vocabulary and goes for phrases like "you know, the thing that does the thing where..." But he avoids the elegant custom of varied vocabulary, instead choosing a more interesting approach. An illustrative example: Ondine at one point is "nailed" (to the railway berm, I believe). This is not a common expression in Dutch/Flemish for having sex, fyi. And it's not just a creative way of describing the act: it's the precise word any character who spreads the rumor uses. In this way the "voice of the community" is quite forcefully brought to the fore, but the author nowhere actually rises above it. He describes things in exactly the same way "they" do.
Perhaps this is what makes the novel stick. I was reminded of Houellebecq, who seems to revel in his intellectual outsider position and the corresponding typical sneering at the naive leftwingers. Boon (and his author character), on the other hand, is in agony over his incapacity to be accepted by, or to accept for that matter, the only political forces he thought might bring about positive change for Belgian workers. Intellectual honesty and curiosity and a refusal to dedicate his craft to the needs of the cause (which he describes at some point as refusing to paint a skeleton dressed in potato sacks outside the closed gates of a factory) meant he couldn't ever be a true insider in any kind of marxist or even left-wing organisation. But he becomes anything but reactionary, rather remaining in a frustrated and undefinable middle ground, without ever getting comfortable there. It could be argued that what he was left with was a most banal form of cynicism, but I'm not too sure. Perhaps I have to read part 2 of the anarchist bible to find out.
Though the rambling style sometimes had me tuning out, it was never for long enough to really get me annoyed, and often another gorgeously simple insight would follow the lull and make me forget I'd been momentarily bored.
The novel takes you on the the intimate journey of writing the book you care about and fail to be satisfied about, either during or after. Simultaneously, you're in a personal storm of ideological shifts and insecurity, something that for me was personally relevant and, dare I say, cathartic.
As a Fleming, I was also inspired by the bold decision to have the grossest, dullest, truest, and most historically relevant bits of life take place in what is basically the author's own street.
Of course, it's impossible to talk about this book without mentioning Boon's use of language, which can seem quite banal. He often avoids precise vocabulary and goes for phrases like "you know, the thing that does the thing where..." But he avoids the elegant custom of varied vocabulary, instead choosing a more interesting approach. An illustrative example: Ondine at one point is "nailed" (to the railway berm, I believe). This is not a common expression in Dutch/Flemish for having sex, fyi. And it's not just a creative way of describing the act: it's the precise word any character who spreads the rumor uses. In this way the "voice of the community" is quite forcefully brought to the fore, but the author nowhere actually rises above it. He describes things in exactly the same way "they" do.
Perhaps this is what makes the novel stick. I was reminded of Houellebecq, who seems to revel in his intellectual outsider position and the corresponding typical sneering at the naive leftwingers. Boon (and his author character), on the other hand, is in agony over his incapacity to be accepted by, or to accept for that matter, the only political forces he thought might bring about positive change for Belgian workers. Intellectual honesty and curiosity and a refusal to dedicate his craft to the needs of the cause (which he describes at some point as refusing to paint a skeleton dressed in potato sacks outside the closed gates of a factory) meant he couldn't ever be a true insider in any kind of marxist or even left-wing organisation. But he becomes anything but reactionary, rather remaining in a frustrated and undefinable middle ground, without ever getting comfortable there. It could be argued that what he was left with was a most banal form of cynicism, but I'm not too sure. Perhaps I have to read part 2 of the anarchist bible to find out.
October 19, 2025
'De Kapellekensbaan' is geen roman die je "even leest". Het is een wereld waarin je terechtkomt, een labyrint waarin Louis Paul Boon zelf de gids én de saboteur is. Boontje sleurt je van de armoedige Aalsterse cité naar de grootse dromen van Ondineke, die het koste wat kost wil ontsnappen aan haar milieu. Ondertussen voert de schrijver zelf het woord, onderbreekt hij zijn eigen verhaal, moppert op de maatschappij en lacht met zijn eigen schrijverschap.
Het resultaat? Een roman die tegelijk sociaal, experimenteel, zedelijk en onnoemelijk menselijk is. De arbeiders, de prostituees, de kleine mensen - Boon toont ze zonder medelijden, maar ook zonder oordeel. Zijn taal is rauw, levendig en doorspekt met humor en woede. En net die mengeling maakt het boek zo onweerstaanbaar: het is een aanklacht, een zelfportret en een literair experiment in één.
Ja, het is chaotisch. Ja, soms lijkt het alsof Boon met opzet verwarring zaait. Maar net dat maakt het zo geniaal: het boek leeft, ademt en spartelt tegen elke vorm van orde of conventie.
Een roman die je niet enkel leest, maar ondergaat. En als hij klaar is, blijf je met vuile handen en een hoofd vol gedachten achter. Boontje op z'n best.
Het resultaat? Een roman die tegelijk sociaal, experimenteel, zedelijk en onnoemelijk menselijk is. De arbeiders, de prostituees, de kleine mensen - Boon toont ze zonder medelijden, maar ook zonder oordeel. Zijn taal is rauw, levendig en doorspekt met humor en woede. En net die mengeling maakt het boek zo onweerstaanbaar: het is een aanklacht, een zelfportret en een literair experiment in één.
Ja, het is chaotisch. Ja, soms lijkt het alsof Boon met opzet verwarring zaait. Maar net dat maakt het zo geniaal: het boek leeft, ademt en spartelt tegen elke vorm van orde of conventie.
Een roman die je niet enkel leest, maar ondergaat. En als hij klaar is, blijf je met vuile handen en een hoofd vol gedachten achter. Boontje op z'n best.
January 14, 2026
Every word in this book, you realise you are reading Great Literature. Boon's style is both funny and depressing, what he wants to tell us is sometimes clear as day but other times inpenetrable, though it always comes down to the same thing: the world, society and humanity are fucked.
That said, I can't say I have enjoyed reading this. Overall it feels like you are reading a collection of columns or diary entries, with some additional fragments of the actual novel or news paper clippings. For me, this turned it into a very unpleasant reading, making it hard to read more than 30 pages on end without mentally burning out.
There are certainly parts I really did enjoy, appreciate or hit me in the right way, which is why I have no problem with admitting this is an impressive piece of work. Boon captures the post-WWII Zeitgeist very well (the hopelessness, the distress, the injustice), but I have read other novels that did this in a way I appreciated more.
The exact rating would be a 3,5/5, but since I was really longing for it to end for over 160 pages, I'm sticking with a 3. Overall, it was a disappointing experience, because after being blown away by 'De voorstad groeit', I was really excited about this magnum opus.
That said, I can't say I have enjoyed reading this. Overall it feels like you are reading a collection of columns or diary entries, with some additional fragments of the actual novel or news paper clippings. For me, this turned it into a very unpleasant reading, making it hard to read more than 30 pages on end without mentally burning out.
There are certainly parts I really did enjoy, appreciate or hit me in the right way, which is why I have no problem with admitting this is an impressive piece of work. Boon captures the post-WWII Zeitgeist very well (the hopelessness, the distress, the injustice), but I have read other novels that did this in a way I appreciated more.
The exact rating would be a 3,5/5, but since I was really longing for it to end for over 160 pages, I'm sticking with a 3. Overall, it was a disappointing experience, because after being blown away by 'De voorstad groeit', I was really excited about this magnum opus.
October 20, 2021
Damn, what a book.
The structure and writing style are quite chaotic, and the very short chapters make it on the one hand more difficult to really read for hours on end because it's easier to put it away and go to bed on time, but on the other hand it also invites you to read "quicky" a chapter here or there between the soup and the potatoes.
I really enjoyed the few bits about Reinaert de Vos, really amusing literature. The story about Ondinneke was enticing but more difficult to enjoy because honestly she's just a c*nt. Yet, the setting was excellent and I kept coming back to see whether she would improve as a person or if she would receive her deserved comeuppance.
In general a book that feels much longer than it actually is. I was surprised it were only 400 pages because it really felt like I read 600+ pages (I read the ebook). But overall I enjoyed the book very much.
The structure and writing style are quite chaotic, and the very short chapters make it on the one hand more difficult to really read for hours on end because it's easier to put it away and go to bed on time, but on the other hand it also invites you to read "quicky" a chapter here or there between the soup and the potatoes.
I really enjoyed the few bits about Reinaert de Vos, really amusing literature. The story about Ondinneke was enticing but more difficult to enjoy because honestly she's just a c*nt. Yet, the setting was excellent and I kept coming back to see whether she would improve as a person or if she would receive her deserved comeuppance.
In general a book that feels much longer than it actually is. I was surprised it were only 400 pages because it really felt like I read 600+ pages (I read the ebook). But overall I enjoyed the book very much.
April 3, 2022
A very original novel : containing three stories that are told through one another. The base story shows us the live of a girl Ondine who searches her way through society at the end of the ninetheenth century willing to get higher in the social ranking but failing to achieve it. The second story is situated in the 1950's and contains the review of the base story in form of discussion between the author himself and a series of his (fictitional) friends . The second story is also the critical analysis of society during that period. The third story is an adaptation of the classical medieval story of Reinaert The Fox. The novel is very innovative in its form and style : difficult to read but the more one progresses in the reading the more he gets involved in the life and thoughts of the antagonists. "Vaut le détour" as the French say.
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